


Shameless

by Dark Star Of Chaos (DarkDecepticon)



Series: With Lowered Wings [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Discipline, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Food Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Oviposition Play, Science Boyfriends, Sensation Play, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Roleplay, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-01-23 04:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDecepticon/pseuds/Dark%20Star%20Of%20Chaos
Summary: Shame gets in the way of submission. Starscream knows that, but talking about difficult subjects is a lot harder than being tied up. But maybe physical vulnerability will make the emotional easier?Or maybe he'll just hide behind his school assignment and a box of candy. He likes that idea.





	1. Heated Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grayseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayseeker/gifts).



> Greetings and Happy Easter! And if you don't celebrate Easter, that's okay! The Plot Bunnies love everyone, and they've brought plenty of eggs.
> 
> Warning: This egg hunt isn't for kids.
> 
> Enjoy!

Starscream stepped back from the chill unit with a snarl, closing the door with a little more force than intended. He immediately froze, listening intently, but kliks passed with nothing to indicate that Skyfire heard the slam. At length he decided it was safe and let himself relax, resting his head against the door.

He had no idea how long he had been standing there with the door open. Long enough to have memorized the unit's contents, probably, but he couldn't have named a single item if asked. The cold air spilling out had distracted him instantly, soaking into his heated frame and sending a delicious tingle across his plating. He could still feel the phantom caress of the draft against his wings and between his legs, and it was so tempting to just open the door again and-

He turned sharply from the chill unit and crossed to the other side of Skyfire's kitchen, arms folded across his chest. His spark was pulsing almost painfully, but he resisted the urge to rub the ache away. It wouldn't work. If anything it would distract him more, and he didn't need the help.

Skyfire generally kept his workspaces clear when not in use, so there was nothing of interest on the counter. Starscream opened a cabinet instead, scanning the massive jars of crystal fragments and powdered metals lined up inside. It took both hands to slide the crushed jade from its place, and he lowered it to the counter as quietly as he could manage. He wasn't doing anything wrong - Skyfire had said he could help himself if he was hungry - but being quiet required him to pay attention to what he was doing. It required him to be _deliberate_ about what he was doing.

In theory, it would keep him from doing anything he would regret later. In practice, it was an experiment that was failing miserably.

He ran his hands up the jar, savoring the coolness of the crystal. It wasn't as nice as the chill unit had been, but it _was_ something solid that he could pull to his chest and lean into. Cold air couldn't provide friction, no matter how good it felt, and he needed the friction, not just the cold. He needed-

He needed to stop hugging this blasted jar.

“Slag it.” Starscream shoved the jar away and straightened, rubbing the chill from his arms. He should have known that would happen. It didn't take a genius to realize that if cold is a distraction, it should be avoided. But like an idiot, he had gone straight for the next cold thing he saw. No one had been there to see it this time, but if he kept this up…

He hefted the jar back onto its shelf, then tried a different cabinet.

“Just pick something,” he told himself, gaze sweeping over an assortment of boxes. “Just pick something and get back to work. Or just get back to work, that essay isn't going to write itself.”

“Back to work” meant sitting down, though. It meant staying still and focusing on little lines of text, and then reading the same paragraph five times when his mind kept wandering. He had hoped taking a break and moving around would help, but he clearly still had the attention span of a petro-rabbit: negligible in all things except interfacing.

Random bolts of arousal didn't normally interfere with his studies like this. When they happened he just hid away in his room and took care of them, then went back to what he was doing. Simple, easy, and more efficient than trying to ignore it.

A heat cycle was a little more difficult to take care of. Especially when he was in someone else's home.

Starscream shook himself again and reached into the cabinet, pulling out the first box his hand landed on. He didn't care what it was. Which meant it was probably zinc wafers or something vile like that, but he doubted he would eat it anyway. Right now, food interested him about as much as the essay he needed to get back to.

He had to force himself to return to the sitting room Skyfire had repurposed as a library. The temptation to head down the hall to the berthroom where Skyfire was working was even worse than the temptation to reopen the chill unit had been. But Starscream himself had suggested they work in seperate rooms to avoid distracting each other, and anyway, Skyfire had already promised that they could frag later. _If_ Starscream did the research for his geology essay and could provide at least a page of notes - with sources - to prove that he'd done it. The point of the exercise was to spend time on a subject he hated, and going to Skyfire now would be trying to get a reward he hadn't yet earned. A reward he wasn't _going_ to earn if he didn't get to work.

Starscream wasn’t a petro-rabbit. He could focus on things other than sex.

He dropped the snack box onto a small side table and climbed into the oversized chair beside it, slumping low enough that his arms hung over the armrests. It was more a throne than a chair; too large to use the armrests properly if he sat in the middle, and with a backrest that ended above his head. Usually he would turn sideways and lie across the seat, or curl up facing the back and angle a wing forward to make a personal tent. But right now massive sections of his body were hypersensitive to touch. His wings, his turbines, even his fragging _thrusters_ were more sensitive than usual. The kind of sensitive that made a cold draft feel erotic.

The memory prompted a fresh wave of heat in his throbbing valve. He bit his lip, crossing his legs in denial of his instinct to spread them, but within moments he was rubbing his thighs together in search of friction and had to part them again. A bot would swear he had a vibrator in him the way he was squirming, and he wished that were the case. At least it would mean relief was coming, whether by his own hand or someone else's. Even if he was told not to touch it, the torment would end sooner than a heat cycle. Though a toy of any sort would make his current state more bearable. He owned one, a thick false spike with a vibration function, that was perfect for heats. It stretched his valve wide, stimulated all the right nodes… All he had to do was activate the magnetic field to keep it in and the toy did all the work.

He bit back a groan and drew his legs up, pressing a heel into his panel and crossing his ankles to increase the pressure. His wings twitched, rubbing against the cool padding behind him, and-

“Frag.”

He forced his legs down and they fell open of their own accord. He dragged himself upright and twisted to sit sideways in the chair, legs folded under him where their mobility was limited. It took some shifting to find a position that didn't return pressure to his groin, but finally he was able to slump against the back of the chair and feel semi-comfortable. Apart from the heat between his legs, which was building all the faster now that it had nowhere to go, but it would do. He just had to think of this as a denial game. He was aroused and he had a task to complete, and when he was done he would be allowed relief. The only difference was that no toys were needed to maintain that arousal.

Of course, he wasn't very good at those games. Skyfire had commented before on his lack of self control while being teased. He'd suggested they work on it too, and had the idea to pair it with Starscream's inability to focus on boring class assignments by making sex a reward for such tasks. Just knowing what lay ahead when he finished made it harder for Starscream to concentrate on his work, making it surprisingly effective as both a tease and an exercise in discipline. Though they hadn't yet attempted disciplinary training with sustained arousal. Starscream regretted that now.

Well, he would just have to consider this class in session. Speaking of which…

He leaned forward to grab a datapad from the side table, then had to stretch to pull the snack box closer. The action pushed his chest into the arm of the chair, soft padding rubbing over aching turbine hubs, and his vents caught. He paused mid-stretch, fighting down the urge to rock into the chair, then slid the box to the edge of the table and let his head drop along with his arm, cycling air in short pants. He shouldn't be lying here like this, but… He just needed a moment to compose himself, that was all.

The chair smelled like Skyfire. He'd already known that - sometimes when he was alone he would bury his face in the padding - but the scent was somehow richer now. Not different, exactly, but more enticing. He raised his head and shifted to press his face into the corner where the chair's arm met the back, intaking deeply. The scent was stronger here, and he would swear his racing spark actually slowed somewhat in response. Skyfire had that effect on him, somehow calming and arousing at the same time. It was probably why he felt so comfortable with him, even when he was being restrained and made to beg.

He rubbed his face against the backrest and pushed his chest into the padding, groaning aloud this time as the pressure soothed the dull pain. Maybe tonight he should ask Skyfire to bind him. Just thinking about the helplessness made his valve clench, and he couldn't help the purr that rumbled from his engines. He raised his aft and braced his knees apart near the edge of the seat, trying to imagine being bound like this. Bent over, valve bared, perfectly positioned for fragging. He buried his nose in the corner again and shut off his optics, trying to decide where his hands should be. By his knees or behind his back?

He stretched out his arms, crossing his wrists between his knees, and gave a muffled whimper as his chest took the majority of his weight. It was easy to imagine Skyfire behind him, hands gripping his hips, pushing him into the chair with every slow thrust. He really wished he had that false spike available so he could better emulate the scenario. If he could manage to leave it alone he'd probably be able to get three or four overloads this way. Or more. He had always come more easily when he was in heat.

Would Skyfire be able to tell? Starscream reactivated his optics, frowning at the shelf of datapads behind the chair. Would he realize Starscream was more sensitive than usual, or that he was overloading more often? Skyfire was so observant, it seemed impossible that he wouldn't. But would he think Starscream was just especially needy this time, or…?

Fresh heat suffused Starscream’s frame, but this time it wasn't arousal. He sat up slowly, wings twitching forward to keep him balanced on the edge of the chair, and cast a glance over his shoulder at the door. He was still alone, thankfully. No one had witnessed his display just now.

What would Skyfire have thought if he _had_ seen it? Would he have asked to join in, or would the seemingly random sexual display have been off-putting? Skyfire wasn't uptight about sex, not like a lot of non-Seekers, but Starscream knew most bots didn't want to walk into a room and find someone practically humping a chair. He’d overheard enough disgusted - and disgusting - comments to know how such behavior was perceived.

Starscream folded his arms again, but this time the action was awkward, driven by an unfamiliar sense of self-consciousness. He wasn't an exhibitionist, but he had never thought of heat displays that way before entering the grounders’ world. In Vos they were just a fact of life, something that happened to everyone, and a perfectly legitimate way to start a relationship.

But he wasn't in Vos anymore. He was a Seeker fighting to prove that he was as smart and civilized as - if not more so than - any grounder, and writhing in a chair like a needy cybercat was _not_ the way to do it.

He took a deep invent and bent to pick up the datapad he barely remembered taking from the stack (when had he dropped it, anyway?), then lay down, bracing his shoulders against one chair arm and hooking his legs over the other. It wasn't the most comfortable with one sensitized wing rubbing up against the back, but it would have to do.

Maybe he should just _tell_ Skyfire he was in heat? Skyfire had always been open-minded about Seeker culture in the past, and it was common knowledge that Seekers had them. Frag, he was probably _expecting_ Starscream to have one eventually.

But this was more than just some custom. It was a primitive biological function optimized to attract mates and promote breeding, and the main reason Seekers were regarded as sex-obsessed lunatics. What if Skyfire thought less of him after seeing how he was behaving?

Starscream let the datapad fall to his canopy with a frustrated snarl, pressing both hands to his face. Skyfire would absolutely think less of him if he got nothing done today because he couldn't think about anything except heats and interfacing. He needed to _focus._

Food might help. It wasn't likely, but it would give him something else to think about.

He started to get up, then paused in the middle of putting the datapad back on the stack to stare at the box sitting forgotten on the table. Great. His thoughts had come in a full circle.

There was probably a disparaging comment waiting to be made, but Starscream just sighed and grabbed the box. He couldn't even remember what it was. Or maybe he hadn't checked. Either way, he had no clue what he was holding. Maybe it wasn't even food, strange things ended up in Skyfire's kitchen sometimes.

Usually that was Starscream's fault. There was a reason why he wasn't allowed to do any unsupervised cooking.

The box itself offered no clue as to the identity of its contents. The text was neither Vosian nor Iaconian, nor any language that used either alphabet, and the logo - a simple red mountain - was unfamiliar. The only thing Starscream knew for sure was that this wasn’t something he’d left behind.

He lifted the top of the box and groaned. “ _Seriously_?”

Of all the things he could have randomly picked up, it _had_ to be a tray of bronze eggs. A mere treat among grounders, but Seekers - who actually _laid_ eggs - traditionally gifted them to the newly-bonded and expectant creators as a means of congratulations and well-wishing. Many superstitious individuals thought eating them actually made it easier to get sparked, which was unproven nonsense. Though there was no denying their status as symbols of fertility… and heats.

Starscream prodded one and curled his lip. “How _convenient_.”

Two of the sixteen were already gone, so there was no reason to think they were anything but innocent candies to Skyfire. It was probably safe to try one. Starscream selected the one he'd poked and held it up, studying it critically. It was large, two of his fingers wide and three long. He bit into one end and oil oozed out, glittering gold with additives.

It tasted all right. Sub par, but that was to be expected when they were made by someone who was more interested in the money they could make than in the significance of the treat. He licked up the escaping oil, then poked his glossa into the hole in search of more.

His valve flexed, reminding him that it would very much enjoy similar treatment, and he crossed his legs again.

Had any of his previous heats been this persistent? He didn't think so, but then, he'd usually waited them out in his room with an assortment of toys. Spending an entire day untouched - not counting two overloads in the washracks before coming here - wasn't something he'd ever had a reason to do.

He twisted to return the box to the table, then slumped back into the chair to resume licking oil from the egg. His free hand moved to his chest, lightly stroking his canopy for a few moments before slipping down to trace the slats of a vent.

He shouldn't be doing this. Heat or no heat, he was supposed to be learning self-control. Taking care of his own neediness was against the rules. But maybe if he could do it without opening his panel, Skyfire wouldn’t know? He'd never tried tactile overloads, but he'd seen other bots manage without stimulation of either spike or valve before. Aroused as he was now, he could probably do the same with a little experimentation. And maybe then he would _finally_ be able to concentrate on this essay.

It was worth a shot. He dropped his head to the arm of the chair and delicately poked his glossa back into the hole, removing the oil with short, shallow licks that grew deeper as the shell emptied. The egg was large enough that with a little imagination it became a needy valve, dripping thick, sweet lubricants. He shut off his optics to heighten the illusion, and with Skyfire's scent covering the chair he was lying in - and Starscream himself, after the way he'd been rubbing on it - it was easy to imagine Skyfire kneeling above him, supporting his considerable weight with one hand while the other stroked Starscream’s canopy. His memory supplied him with a litany of murmured encouragements and soft moans as he probed deeper. The oil tasted nothing like Skyfire, but his imagination filled that in too.  

He backed off, adjusting his hold on the egg to put his thumb where Skyfire’s node would be, then molded his lips over the tip and sucked. In his mind Skyfire groaned and rewarded him by moving his hand to one turbine, rubbing the hub from base to tip. The sensation sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin, and Starscream resisted an answering whine, not wanting to alert the real Skyfire to what he was doing. He circled his fingers around the tip of his hub, then returned them to his vent and pushed his glossa back into the egg.

The treat grew slippery in his fingers as the gelled energon that held the powdered-metal shell together started to melt. Between the heat and the friction of his licking the hole was also getting bigger, making it easier to reach the oil coating the inner walls. He imagined Skyfire's valve relaxing, opening further in an invitation he was happy to accept as he continued the firm strokes. His free hand left his chest to travel lower, teasing transformation seams on its way to his pelvic assembly. He arched into the touch with a happy murmur, fingers briefly tracing his spike housing before dipping to hover over his valve panel. Knowing he wasn't in a private place made him hesitate, but his vents were cycling fast and his valve was quivering in anticipation, so he surrendered to his fantasy and finally lowered his fingers to trace the hot metal between his legs.

 _Frag._ A desperate, strangled sound left his throat as his hips bucked into the contact, turning a light touch into wonderful pressure. He wanted more, and he wanted it _now._ But Skyfire wouldn't let him off that easy, so he forced himself to withdraw his hand, panting against the egg.

On sudden inspiration he wiggled down to prop his hips up on the armrest, reducing his ability to squirm. He imagined Skyfire's massive hands wrapping around his waist and moving him effortlessly into position. Knees applied gentle pressure to his wings, further pinning him. Then the giant hands were on his thighs instead, pushing his legs apart while Skyfire breathlessly commented on the improved view. Starscream clenched the cables in his legs and belly, trying to replicate the feeling of  straining against a stronger hold. After a few moments he relaxed again, whimpering helplessly. A drop of oil slid over his thumb, reminding him of the egg, and Skyfire's voice was a deep growl in his mind, telling him he didn't have permission to stop. He swept his glossa apologetically over Skyfire's node and back into his valve. Skyfire's hand returned to stroke his valve cover, and he tensed in another imaginary escape attempt.

When there was no oil left in the egg he pressed his lips to the hole and kept licking. Skyfire's gasps and moans grew louder and more frequent as the shell weakened. Starscream curled his fingers against his panel and pressed up into the touch, but Skyfire, voice strained, warned him to keep it shut. Starscream's valve clenched in a protest he vocalized with a whine even as he curled his fingers again. He drove his glossa more forcefully into the egg, trying to get Skyfire off quickly in hopes of being allowed his own climax after.

The dissolving treat broke apart. In his mind, Skyfire hit overload. Starscream eased him through it with gentle licks, guiding the pieces of shell into his mouth, then cleaned the last of the candy from his fingers. When it was gone he forced himself to still, imagining Skyfire taking a moment to rest. Once his voice returned Skyfire told him he did well, and his hand flattened against Starscream’s panel. The heated metal gave slightly under his fingers, just enough for the vibrations to reach his node if he applied pressure in the right spot. Now that there was nothing to keep his mouth busy he couldn’t stop a string of desperate whimpers. He tried to press up into his hand, but with his hips elevated the best he could do was arch his back, legs stretching and curling above him.

It wasn’t enough. Not quite. Not without direct contact. He groaned in mingled pleasure and frustration and slid his free hand over his chest, fingering a vent for a few moments before moving up to his turbine. A ragged gasp left his throat and he arched again, pushing the hub into his hand.

It took a little more stimulation, but finally his valve clenched and a light shudder ran through his body. It was a release of sorts, but he almost didn’t recognize it as an overload. It didn’t last long either, and then he was sagging back into the chair, panting heavily and almost as tense as he’d been when he started. If not more so.

“Well… Frag,” he muttered hoarsely.

“Actually, I think you stopped a bit short of that,” Skyfire commented, and Starscream’s optics flashed online.


	2. The Taste of Bronze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream has always enjoyed Skyfire's dominance, but experiencing it while in heat is something else entirely.

Starscream turned his head and sure enough, the real Skyfire was standing in the doorway. Arms folded, brow raised, and appearing none too happy. But his mouth was twitching with a poorly hidden smile, and seeing that smile knowing he was fully capable of keeping a straight face - knowing he was deliberately slipping up to reassure him - made something in Starscream’s belly tighten.

“Ah… Um.” Starscream glanced away, face heating with embarrassment born more of his inability to find words than of being caught. Though being caught was mortifying in its own right after his concern about upsetting Skyfire with random sexual displays. “I didn’t… know you were standing there,” he managed at last, and then felt ridiculous for pointing out the obvious.

“I’m not surprised,” Skyfire said, leaving the doorway. “You seemed pretty busy.”

Starscream licked his lips and shifted restlessly, torn between desires to submit and to be ready to defend himself. He knew Skyfire wouldn’t hurt him, but being in heat came with an instinct to avoid or drive off bots he lacked an interest in, and his discomfort was triggering it. Big time.

There were other instincts active too, though. Instincts that registered the gleaming white of Skyfire's plating and the way he moved: easy, unhurried and purposeful. And his sheer _size_. Wide wings, broad shoulders and huge, gentle hands. The perfect blend of power and self-control. Starscream shivered, body burning with desire as Skyfire came to stand over him. He wanted to squirm, to rub the ache away and bare himself for Skyfire to claim, to show him he was _ready_ for this.

“Busy,” he repeated weakly. “I- a little. Yes.” His hand was still between his legs. Should he remove it, or continue pleasuring himself? He felt awkward with it just sitting there, but with his plating still hot with embarrassment - and arousal - he didn’t feel comfortable moving.

Skyfire’s gaze roamed down his body, lingering for a wonderful, agonizing moment on his covered array, then flicked back to his face. “Remind me of the rules we laid out for your training, won’t you?”

Training. Self-control. Right. Starscream had forgotten there was another reason to worry about getting caught. “All of them?”

“I think so, yes,” Skyfire agreed, kneeling beside the chair. “I want to know how many others you’ve broken.”

His presence alone had Starscream's spark pulsing faster and his processor stalling. He licked his lips again, buying a precious moment to collect himself, but the taste of bronze replaced coherent thought with a reminder of his fantasy. He wanted to make it real, wanted to bury his face in Skyfire's valve and eat him out until _he_ was the one struggling for words. To be made to earn his own pleasure.

“I-” Starscream’s voice broke. He coughed and tried again. “I have to finish the task you set me. I'm... I’m not to interrupt you while you work. If I get done first, I’m supposed to wait for you. And,” he cast a guilty glance at the hand still resting on his panel, “I’m not allowed to touch myself.”

Skyfire nodded. “You obviously didn't wait for me, but what about your research? Did you at least finish your task before deciding to have some fun?”

Starscream fidgeted, but couldn't manage a verbal answer. He felt bad for not waiting, but even that couldn't banish the daydream of a hot, wet valve and hands keeping his head trapped between quivering thighs. He would gladly make up for his impatience, given the chance.

“That's three, then,” Skyfire said, reminding Starscream that they were still discussing the rules. “And I think distracting me when I come for a datapad counts as interrupting my work, don't you?”

His voice had dropped to an intimate rumble that Starscream knew well, one that vibrated straight to his core and made him wet even when he wasn’t in heat. One that registered on a deep, primal level as the voice of his Dominant. He would have lowered his wings had his position allowed it. Instead he removed his hand from his panel and bared his throat, providing access to either should Skyfire want it.

Skyfire accepted the invitation, running a hand down the length of Starscream's canopy. But instead of continuing down between his legs, Skyfire raised both hands to his knees and pushed his thighs farther apart, exposing as much of his body as possible with his panels still closed.

“You know I should leave you like this,” Skyfire said, hands lingering on Starscream's knees. “I should bind your legs open and stuff you full, then leave you on display until your work is done. You know that, don't you?”

“Y-yes,” Starscream stammered.

Skyfire sat back, returning one hand to Starscream's belly while the other caught his chin, locking their gazes. “Do you think you deserve that?”

Starscream knew he did. He also knew that no matter how good it sounded now, the awkward position would grow painful long before he was allowed to move. Normally he would accept it regardless - he _had_ broken the rules, after all - but while he was in heat the enforced stillness might be too much.

He needed to say something. The usual punishments didn't take heats into account. But when he opened his mouth, what came out instead was, “I d-didn't technically touch myself. I didn't open my p-panels, so…”

“So you think you deserve leniency?” Skyfire finished, raising a brow. “Bots can get off on tactile stimulation alone. Though I will admit, you didn't seem to enjoy it much. Did you even overload?”

“I-” Words were too hard, frag it! Starscream had never realized how much he relied on scent and movement to communicate during a heat. If Skyfire had been a Seeker, there would be no need for anything else. As it was, Starscream could only groan in frustration and shake his head, pulling free of Skyfire’s hand in the process. “I don't know.”

Skyfire's expression relaxed into something soft, almost sympathetic, and he began to stroke Starscream's forehead. “It's hard to get there sometimes, isn't it?” he asked, tone now as gentle as the contact. “The need builds until you can't think about anything else, and you get to the point where you don't even care about pleasure anymore. You just want relief, but you can’t get that either.”

Starscream whimpered, grabbing for the hand resting on his canopy. “Sky…”

“Hush,” Skyfire murmured, bracing his free arm by Starscream’s head and leaning down. “You’re okay.”

He nuzzled along Starscream’s jaw to his throat, and Starscream couldn’t resist turning his head to rub against his cheek, subtly depositing his own scent while drawing in a deep intake of Skyfire’s. The real thing was so much better than the chair. And more reassuring, even with warm ventilations wafting against his neck, highlighting his vulnerability.

“You have to care about the pleasure,” Skyfire continued, nosing under Starscream’s chin to urge his head further back. “Not the overload. Just take your time and focus on how good it feels.”

“Can’t,” Starscream rasped. Skyfire’s lips pressed to the cables protecting his vocalizer as he spoke, and Starscream trailed off into a thin whine. “Need it.”

“Badly enough to break the rules to get it?” Skyfire nipped lightly at Starscream’s throat, then soothed the sting with a swipe of his glossa. “I know you have better control than this. What has you so desperate today?”

He sounded more amused than disapproving, but the question was still a sobering reminder of Starscream’s disobedience. He took a shuddering ventilation, trying to focus on something other than the mouth mapping out his cables, then raised a hand to Skyfire's shoulder and pushed.

“I can't… can't think with you doing that," he panted.

Skyfire smiled against his neck. "If you need to think about it, I'm probably not going to get an honest answer, am I?"

If Skyfire kept this up he wouldn’t get an answer at all. Starscream pushed harder against his shoulder, trying to squirm away from the assault on his throat, but his spark wasn’t in it. He did want to escape, but only because the insistent contact was wreaking havoc on his mind. How could Skyfire do this to him without so much as touching his valve?

Well, being in heat probably helped.

Skyfire finally drew back, though he remained bent over Starscream. The hand resting on Starscream’s belly slid up his canopy to his chest, where fingertips ghosted over an aching turbine hub. Starscream pressed up into the touch with a groan, all thoughts of escape replaced by desperate need, and Skyfire laughed.

“You might not have gotten off, but you certainly seem to have gotten worked up,” he commented, rubbing the cone between two fingers. “What were you thinking about to get yourself in such a state?”

Frag. Starscream swallowed hard, struggling to pull his scattered thoughts together long enough to reply. “J-just… You know, general… stuff,” he managed, strangely unwilling to admit to the details of his daydream. It wasn’t normally an issue, but admitting to indulging in fantasies while breaking the rules was a lot harder than sharing under other circumstances would have been.

“’Stuff’, hmm?” Skyfire circled the base of the hub with a single finger. “Tell me more.”

“Th-there’s really not anything to tell,” Starscream stammered. “I mean, it obviously didn’t do it for me, so…”

“Oh?” Skyfire raised a skeptical brow. “If that’s the case, I’m sure you won’t mind if I confirm that for myself?”

“Confirm…?”

Skyfire’s hand left his chest, sliding down his canopy to push boldly between his legs. Starscream’s vents caught.

“Open for me?” Skyfire asked, running a finger down the center of Starscream’s panel.

Starscream couldn’t have refused if he’d wanted to. He wasn’t even sure if he opened it or if it slid aside of its own volition. All he knew was that the air was shockingly cool against his wet valve, and he let out the breath he was holding in a shaky sigh.

“Good,” Skyfire praised. “Now, let’s see what we have _here_.”

Starscream swallowed thickly, watching Skyfire’s hand dip between his curled legs. He couldn't see much, but he could see his node, swollen too large to remain hidden in his folds. It was the first thing Skyfire went for, capturing it with two fingers and rolling it between them. Starscream shuddered, unable to stop the moan that left his throat as his head fell back to the seat.

“Pay attention,” Skyfire said, using his free hand to lift Starscream’s head again. “I want you to see this too.”

Two fingers dragged over Starscream’s folds, pausing at the apex to rub the collected lubricants over his aching node before returning the way they came. One nudged against his entrance, tracing the flexing rim. Starscream whimpered, trying to lift his hips and get the finger inside him, but could only open his legs further in a silent plea. Then the second finger returned, and Skyfire spread his valve lips, humming thoughtfully.

“It seems to me as though whatever you were thinking about _did_ do it for you,” he said, withdrawing his hand. He studied his glistening fingers for a moment, then looked down at Starscream. “The question is, what was it?”

Starscream shook his head weakly, fingers digging into the padding under him. “You,” he admitted hoarsely. “I was thinking about you.” He began to close his legs, feeling awkward with his valve on display, but Skyfire stopped him with a hand on his knee.

“Keep them open,” Skyfire ordered. “I’m not done with you.”

“But-”

Skyfire reached out, placing a finger slick with Starscream’s lubricants against his lips to silence him. “No buts,” he said firmly. “Keep them open. And I want your hands over your head.”

Starscream drew in a shaky ventilation, unable to think past the throbbing between his legs and the musky scent of his own fluids right under his nose. He barely had the presence of mind to obey, slowly parting his legs again and reaching up to lay his hands on the armrest above him.

Skyfire smiled, hand leaving Starscream’s face. “Now,” he said softly, returning his hand to Starscream’s chest and smearing lubricant over a turbine hub, “I want you to tell me what you were fantasizing about. And please, spare no details.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was short. With any luck at all, the next one will be along before NaNoWriMo sucks me in, lol.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to my amazing friend and beta, grayseeker, who read the original draft for this story and encouraged me not to give up on it - or on sex scenes in general. And she's written SkyStar BDSM too, so if you like this story, why not give her a try? <3


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